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Final Mistake
May 25, 2013
What am I to do with a shattered glass?
Step on the pieces and hope I bleed?
Pick it up and prick my fingers?
Or sweep it up, learning nothing from my mistake?
What am I to do, now?
The pieces cut through my shields,
into my soul.
The red-glass pierced my mind
sliced my heart.
What am I to do now,
when all I have is a fading vision?
An empty pen?
And nothing to fill it with
except the red life
draining out from under me?
What am
I to do
now, when
all I have left
are broken
sentences
chop
ped
wor
ds
and a lone
ly scar
ed heart?
© Christopher M., El Paso, TX
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This article has 1 comment.
AmberMichelle BRONZE said...
on Jun. 2 2013 at 8:57 pm
Really amazing. :)
This person has made mistakes in her life, a lot of them, and they've hurt her. They cannot accomplish anything with what little life they have left in them.
In the end...all they have is them self, and their scars.
The spacing is very, very important in this poem.